


Crying for Connor

by WittyWallflower



Category: Primeval
Genre: Character Death, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:45:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WittyWallflower/pseuds/WittyWallflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becker helps Abby mourn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crying for Connor

**Author's Note:**

> warning: character death and sad feels

A quiet knock and the door opened on Captain Becker. Stepping inside he closed the door behind him and stood gazing steadily at Abby Maitland, his face stony but his eyes shadowed and pained.

Abby glanced at him for only a moment, otherwise she didn't react to his presence. It felt like she was in a fog, miles away from everything happening in the world. Everyone passed, muffled, far out of reach. 

A hand settled on her shoulder. Against her will she looked up at its owner, knowing it wouldn't be Connor but that didn't prevent the sharp stab of pain that penetrated her silent shock. She kept waiting for him, expecting him to walk through the door with a grin on his face and that stupid hat he loved so much on his head.

Abby was choked by a short, ragged gasp as she sensed the weight of grief hidden behind the curtain of emotional mist. She almost crumpled into herself.; the only way to bury the sobs was not to breathe. Becker came to crouch in front of her, taking both of her hands in his. Gently chafing her icy fingers, he examined Abby's glazed eyes, seeing things he was only too familiar with from his own mirror. Shellshock. 

If she ever recovered from losing Connor today, there would still be Post Traumatic Stress to deal with. Becker's team had been through a lot, lost some good people and seen some terrible things. How does anyone come to terms with seeing the person they love most in the world attacked by a voracious predator from the future? Holding their hand while the life drained out of them? How does anyone learn to live with that in their memories?

Becker removed his coat, draping it around Abby and coaxing her to stand. She moved when he prodded her gently, raising her arms mechanically so he could bundle her in and zip her up in the warm garment. With one arm around her shoulder he guided her, slowly so she could react through the haze that protected her mind from the shattering grief to come. 

With a painful swallow, Becker regarded her as they slowly made their way out of the ARC. He'd never met anyone more ill-equipped to handle the emotional storm ahead than Abby was at this moment. Even himself. Becker had been to war after all. He may not be good at handling emotions, but he'd been through loss many times before. He knew it far too well. Abby was strong, stubbornly so, but the only person she ever turned to for support, help, or comfort was gone now.

Becker pressed his lips to the top of Abby's head as he blinked away tears for the friend he lost today. He failed, he couldn't save Connor. But the job wasn't done. He couldn't break down until he saved Abby. As best he could.

Abby was lifted into Becker's truck, her seatbelt buckled for her as if she were a fragile child, and he got behind the wheel. Forehead against the window, Abby's eyes were fixed in the distance but Becker couldn't tell if she actually saw anything they passed. As they neared the part of London where she and Connor had shared a flat for years, she began to shake from reaction. She squeezed her eyes shut and hung her head. Becker reached out and gripped her hand. He spun the wheel and pointed the vehicle in another direction. As they moved away, Abby's tremors subsided.

When they stopped, she let him help her from the car and lead her into a building. But she didn't surface until Becker led her into his own flat. She didn't speak but her eyes finally met his and Becker could seethe questions in them.

"You shouldn't be alone." Becker said. "Home will be there when you're ready."

Pain bloomed within Abby at the thought of the home she shares, no.. had shared with Connor. She couldn't let herself go any further with that train of thought. It hurt too much. She wasn't strong enough to handle it. Becker could see the glaze return to her eyes as Abby shut herself down emotionally once more. Pressing her down onto the sofa, he dragged a blanket over her lap but Abby refused to acknowledge him. She had retreated back into the comforting numbness.

Becker swallowed a curse, knowing what he had to do, what he didn't want to do. Locating a bottle of whiskey he kept on hand for poker nights with Danny, he poured a large measure and maneuvered Abby into drinking it. He knew she wouldn't, couldn't, open herself up enough to handle this without help. Several glasses of help. Becker hated forcing the pain on her, a pain no one should ever have to feel, but she couldn't mourn until she acknowledged it.

When the liquor finally burned its way through her fog, Abby didn't try to fight the wave of grief that swept her. She let herself cry brokenly, pouring out every bit of her heart's love for Connor. The world shrank down to just Abby, the sounds of her gasping sobs, the painful twisting in her gut, and the image burned into her mind of her beautiful smiling Connor savagely struck down. Lost to the everything until the early morning, she lay curled on the couch, her head on Becker's lap and her tears soaking his knee. He brushed the hair from her face, and his own tears from his cheeks. When Abby finally quieted, to exhausted and dehydrated to cry any more, neither spoke. Neither moved. And the first new dawn without Connor Temple came.


End file.
